Take Only What You Need
by checkerboardom
Summary: The sun was glancing off the waves and giving everything a jewel like quality as he watched Matt and Mello, howling with laughter as they splashed unsuspecting beach goers. Watching his two boys, he realized (not for the first time) that there really wasn't much he wouldn't do to keep them happy. Prequel to My Eyes Don't Shed Tears.


**Title: Take Only What You Need**

**Rating: M - Explicit**

**Tags/Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, underage, daddy kink, ediophilia, pedophilia, statutory rape, Dara's fucked up, I'm sorry, explicit sexual content, explicit language, Nichole's a bitch, Dara's parents are asshole.**

**In honor of MEDST's one year anniversary, I'm uploading the first chapter of the prequel! So you get Dara's POV and a little look into what makes him, well him. And a bit of him pining after Matt. /^.^/**

_You were a child _  
><em>Crawling on your knees toward him <em>  
><em>Making momma so proud <em>  
><em>But your voice is too loud<em>

_We like to watch you laughing _  
><em>You picking insects off of plants <em>  
><em>No time to think of consequences<em>

**Kids by Lady Danville**

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><p>Dara Elius Kheel was raised to be the perfect child. He was potty trained by two, spoke his first words not soon after, and finished up his (not so) terrible twos by walking. He was a quick learner, confident and friendly, and flew through grade school like it was the easiest thing in the world. Of course being the great grandson of one of the founding fathers of a small Californian town, there was talk, always talk. His mother was a gossip that drank a bottle of wine every night before dinner was done, and his father was the driving force behind the town council.<p>

His mother raised him in the social spotlight, telling him what to say, when to say it, and who to say it to. He learned which families were integral to build relationships with ("_Always climb your ladder as high as possible"_), which ones were strictly acquaintances (_"New money, might be useful one day"_), and which ones were best avoided (_"Best to leave them alone, Dara, you wouldn't want people to talk"_). His father raised him to be a diplomat, which hands to shake _("Everything is a power play son"_), which conversations to participate in (_"Never let a conversation slip past you, it might matter one day"_), and what ideas to back (_"Don't flirt with potential failure"_).

And like in any political environment, sex was key. Who was fucking who, who shouldn't be fucking who, who was having affairs, who to lure into affairs.

By the age of fifteen, Dara was the perfect little politician, president of his high school government, played lacrosse and soccer, and got nothing but straight A's. His parents' perfect little protégé.

By sixteen he knew more about the inner workings of the town better that nearly every person there. He was young, smart, handsome, and completely miserable.

By graduation, he'd applied for as many universities outside the state of California, and naturally chose the best; Harvard.

His mother was furious (privately, of course), insisting that he attend Berkeley, since it was his father's graduate school. But Harvard, Harvard was the best decision he'd ever made. It was there that he met Nichole Welch, up-and-coming model, daughter of a third class single father of three children. No money, but plenty of ambition, and enough charm to seduce her way to fame. His mother would have both loved and hated her.

She was beautiful.

Not just physically, but mentally. She was smart and sharp tongued, with light blonde hair and eyes so blue they made the sky look grey in comparison. She was easily ten times more appealing than all of the girls back in Pacific Grove. The sex was great, never too slow, never rough enough, but better than any of the one night stands he'd had since freshman year.

The argued, they clashed, they fought, the broke up, they fucked each other through it. Rinse, dry, repeat.

It was senior year, about a month before graduation, when Nichole found out she was pregnant. They decided from the beginning to keep it, and so Nichole's modeling career ended before it could even begin. She blamed him, Dara knew she did, but he ignored it in favor of finishing his schooling so he could provide for his growing family.

He graduated at top of his class with a degree in Information Technology and Business. They got a nice apartment in downtown New York and Dara began his career as a programmer. Nichole spent her time shopping, gossiping with her friends, and partying. The baby shower was extravagant, though neither of their parents attended, filled with friends, acquaintances, and business partners.

By the time Mihael was born, Nichole hated him. She was snappish and cold, never happy unless she was out of the house, and worst of all she was fat. Well, as fat as any pregnant woman would get, but not model thin either. She despised it. From there, the relationship fell apart. Dara hired a nanny for his son, and paid Nichole's credit bills, and furthered his career.

When Mihael turned two, they moved back to California, to the sunny beaches of Los Angeles, and Nichole started to shine again. She worked odd modeling jobs, and spent her money, and rarely held her son. Dara started his own information security company, a small business named Khodewear that quickly grew in name. By the time Mihael was five, Dara was one the most successful businessmen on the West Coast and Nichole was making leeway in the modeling industry.

With Mihael (_"It's Mello now dad, stop forgetting!"_) beginning school, Dara started working less hours, dropping his son off at school and working until it was time to pick him up. Not even a week into Kindergarten, Mello had a best friend. The kid was a boy named Matt with a riot of ginger hair and a smattering of freckles across his pale face. He loved video games as much as his son loved chocolate and had a penchant for sleeping over as much as possible. Of course, when his son looked at him with his mother's eyes, all wide and pleading, Dara couldn't possibly say no. So Matt became a semi-permanent member of the household and things were good.

…

Of course, Dara knew about Veronica Jeevas' drug problem. If he was anything, he was his parent's child, and he wasn't going to let Mello flirt potential danger, best friend or not. He could recognize the signs, due to a rather brilliant curly haired man that had attended his pre-rec classes before promptly disappearing.

But despite that, he couldn't get rid of Matt. Mello was happier than he'd been since leaving New York and there wasn't much Dara wouldn't do to keep Mello happy. So Matt stayed.

It wasn't until the summer before fourth grade that thing went from good and stable to complete shit.

Matt's parents were going through a divorce, made all that much uglier because Matt's parents still loved each other. Dara knew that when he and Nichole eventually split, the only fight would be over money. Not that he cared all that much about the money, he'd have Mello after all. But no, Matt's parents were still in love, and they both loved their son equally as much. The only problem was the drugs.

Matt talked about it enough while curled up in Dara's lap in the middle of the night. The television was always on in the background, but Matt seemed content that Dara was listening as he laid out all the fears a nine year old could possibly have. He talked, he mumbled, he cried into Dara's shoulder, and Dara did what he could only imagine he would do for his son when the time came. He held Matt and listened.

It took a year for the divorce to finalize itself. A week after it was closed, Veronica Jeevas moved to Nevada and Matt spent a full week at the Kheel household, refusing to speak to his father. Dara fielded the calls, assuring Thierry that Matt was doing fine, that he wasn't putting anyone out, and that he'd call him if anything happened. Thierry understood that his son needed time, needed his best friend, and Dara respected him for that.

It was during this week that things changed however.

Matt and Mello were sleeping upstairs, Nichole was out with her not-boyfriend, and Dara was in his office, taking a break from work for a few minutes. Everything was quiet and peaceful. Checking to make sure the door was closed enough to ensure privacy, but cracked a little so he could hear if the boys needed anything, he returned to his chair and undid his pants. It had been too long since he'd had sex, caught up in work and the boys, so the first touch caused his to gasp. Finding the bottle of lube discarded in one of the bottom drawers of his desk, he squeezed a little onto his fingers and stroked himself slow and sure. He'd always liked it slow, when he wasn't actually fucking, liked the leisurely pace and the way it made everything in him feel hot and tense. Anticipatory.

Tightening his grip, he bit back a moan and moved a hand down to cup his balls. God, what he wouldn't do to have a mouth on him right now, he thought before jerking up as the door creaked. Instantly his head cleared up, and he quickly righted himself in his pants as Matt's head poked around the crack in the door.

"Sorry, I... I had a bad dream." He mumbled, half-asleep, and Dara had to wonder how he'd managed to get down the stairs without falling.

"No, no, come here. It's fine." Dara told him, wiping up his hands with a tissue and Matt didn't need to be told twice. He climbed up into Dara's lap, despite how gangly his legs had become with his recent growth spurt, and tucked his face into Dara's shoulder.

"Can I watch a movie?" He yawned, breath puffing against Dara's pulse and the blonde nodded, shifting so that the kid wouldn't feel him still half hard in his pants. Finding a kids show on Youtube, he put it on and relaxed a little as Matt slowly drifted to sleep. His erection still hadn't flagged completely but Dara blamed it on the warm breath on his neck, on the weight in his lap, and the (significantly) long period between any of his recent sexual experiences. Once he was sure Matt was completely asleep, he gathered him up in his arms and climbed back up the stairs.

Mello was sprawled across the space that Matt's departure had left open so the blonde used a hand to rearrange his son and laid Matt down in the newly available space. Matt mumbled something in his sleep, tongue wetting his lips before he snuggled deeper into the covers and turned into Mello's warmth. Smiling to himself Dara pressed a kiss to his mop of red hair before going around to kiss Mello good night as well. When he leaned down however, Mello had his eyes open, sleep fogged though they were.

"He's sad." Mello whispered, sounding lost and Dara gave his son a reassuring smile.

"He'll get better, you just have to be there for him, okay?" He told his son and Mello nodded, a determined look on his face before he yawned.

"You too, daddy. He likes you." He mumbled before he fell back to sleep and Dara kissed his forehead with a sigh.

Deciding to take a shower, Dara went to his room and stripped. Nichole still wasn't home, and probably wouldn't be until early the next morning. Dara let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. It was getting a bit longer than he liked, and he decided to get it cut along with Matt and Mello's tomorrow. They could all use one, especially Matt. His ginger hair had darkened to a deep red, freckles disappearing over time, and Dara knew that he'd grow up to be just as attractive as his mother was. Mello was much the same, having gotten his father's dark blonde hair and his mother's crystal blue eyes.

Both his boys were going to grow up to brilliant, he knew, and it hadn't occurred to him that he'd started thinking of Matt as his until that very moment. God knew the boy spent enough time at his to be halfway adopted, but every time he thought of Matt as one of his sons he couldn't help but feel off. Shaking his head and turning on the taps, he relaxed as steam slowly began to fill the bathroom. Once the warm water had soaked into his muscles enough to relieve the tension that had been building since Matt had interrupted him in his office, he took his cock in hand. He wasn't slow this time, didn't want to give his mind enough time to wander, but instead pulled his orgasm to the surface with quick, firm flicks of his wrist. Brushing his thumb over the head he bit his lip as he came in spine shuddering spurts. Slowing stroking himself down from his high, he leaned his back back against the shower wall and groaned.

...

The next morning, Dara woke the boys up early. Mello was still half asleep at the table as Dara cooked up some eggs to go along with their waffles, but Matt was bright eyed and unfairly adorable with his hair framing his head in a red tangle. His ends were slightly curled, backing Dara's decision for emergency haircuts even more and he paused in serving them breakfast to take one of the tips between his fingers. The end of it curled around his fingertip, soft and surprisingly silky.

"You need a haircut." He said in response to Matt's curious expression and Mello's head shot up. "We all do." He continued, cutting off Mello's objections before they could start. The blonde huffed, and dug into his breakfast with an expression of childish outrage that had Dara chuckling under his breath. Ruffling Matt's hair, he returned to the stove and made sure it was off before putting some toast into the toaster. He brought his plate to the table and ate, reminded the boys to not make a mess in between bites. Mello had excellent table manners, despite the occasional vicious stab with his fork, but Matt usually ended up with syrup all over his cheeks by the time he was finished.

Today was no different, so while Mello was showering, he hoisted Matt up onto the counter and wiped his hands and mouth with a damp towel.

"I woke up in Mello's bed." Matt told him, feet kicking at the cabinet doors under the sink despite how many time Dara reminded him not to. "I remember falling asleep in your office. How did the movie end?"

"I wouldn't know kiddo, I fell asleep too." Dara paused in his cleaning, before moving down to the grove between Matt's pinky and ring finger.

"Daddy lets me sleep in his bed after I have a bad dream." He continued and Dara could see the question in his eyes. He just didn't want to (couldn't) answer it. So he stayed quiet as he got Mello out of the shower, gave him a towel, and sent him off to his room. Making sure the water was still warm enough for Matt, he waited for the boy to strip before gathering the discarded clothes and going down to the laundry room.

Finding the rest of their clothes from the past week, he started a load and went to his own room to shave and get dressed. In the middle of his hunt for a shirt, there was a tentative knock on the door before Matt poked his head in. Dara really was going to have to have a talk with him about privacy, but for now he gave the boy his full attention. Which, Matt seemed to be doing as well, eyes roaming over Dara's shoulders before moving on to his chest, which Dara quickly crossed his arms over. A bright blush crept up Matt cheeks as he ducked his head and Dara went back to looking for a t-shirt. Finding an old college shirt, he pulled it over his head and took a breath before turning back to the redhead, who was now perched on his bed, little Converses digging into the duvet.

"What did you need, kiddo?" He asked and Matt's entire face reddened with annoyance as he seemed to remember his reason for barging in.

"Mello said I looked like a girl!" He shouted, sounding hurt and Dara laughed. Matt turned even redder and Dara instantly regretted it at the look of offended betrayal in the ten year old's eyes.

"Hey, no, I'm not laughing at you. Just... Mello doesn't have much room to tell anyone they look like a girl, now does he?" He asked and Matt's eyes went a little brighter, the hurt disappearing as he mulled over Dara's words.

"No." He finally decided, shoulder straightening as he jumped down from the bed. Dara watched him run out the room, voice echoing down the hall.

"Mello! Your dad says you look like a girl too!" He yelled and Dara groaned.

Children.

...

After their haircuts were taking care of, Dara got them ice cream and announced that they were going to have a beach day. Mello wrinkled his nose, most likely at the memory of the sand that was probably still lodge in his favorite pair of sneakers, but Matt was an instant ball of excitement. Neither of them stopped talking on the drive there, but then, as the waves came into view, Matt let out a high pitched gasp. Looking at the boys through the rearview, Dara smiled as Mello pointed out all his favorite spots at the beach to his friend, blue eyes bright with happiness.

Pulling into one of the parking sections on the outcropping of flat land above the beach, Dara turned off the car and gathered the two beach bags he had snuck into the trunk that morning. The boys took off down the sand, Mello tripping Matt on accident half-way down and they both went tumbling head over heels, kicking sand up everywhere.

"Come on boys!" He called as he jogged past them with the bags and they both scrambled to their feet, spitting sand out. Watching them take off down the beach again, Dara found an alcove with some shade and laid out the towels before shedding his shirt and kicking his sandals off. Ignoring the appreciative looks that some of the beach goers shot his way he ran after the boys before they could go too far out into the water, scooping Mello off his feet and flinging him into the water. He came up sputtering and shrieking as Dara managed to catch Matt around his waist. The redhead smacked at him half-heartedly, voice carrying over the waves as he laughed. Then a blonde blur crashed into Dara's side with a war cry and they all went down, wrestling in the shallow waves.

Keeping his hold on Matt he managed to get hold of a laughing Mello and threw both of the out into the water where everything dissolved into a huge water fight.

Leaving the boys to themselves for a bit, he trekked back up onto the shore and laid down on the warm sand. The sun was glancing off the waves and giving everything a jewel like quality as he watched the two, howling with laughter as they splashed unsuspecting beach goers. Watching his two boys, he realized (not for the first time) that there really wasn't much he wouldn't do to keep them happy.

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><p><strong>AN: This was supposed to be a one-shot dammit! But, fuck it, I love these idiots too much. Review and let me know what you guys think!**

**Now I gotta go make sure that the Cowboys take down the Packers. Those cheating motherfuckers. Reversal, my ass.**


End file.
